A pale, blonde woman in pink scrubs first asks my name and birthday. She has an accent that sounds Scandinavian, and she looks past the tears in my eyes as I answer her questions. She leads me down
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I love puzzles. It’s calming to know that everything has its place, and that if I look hard enough I will find it. It doesn’t matter how many times I break a puzzle down; with a little effort, I can
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I was in love with the way the dainty pink mouse glided across the stage, her tutu twirling as she pirouetted and her rose-colored bow following the motion of her outstretched arms with every grand
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Stretched out between the living room and the kitchen, straddling the fuzzy carpet and cold tile, lies the warm spot—a vent affectionately named for its delightful puff onto a child’s cold toes. I say
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A dark grey weight pulled down on the city, washing out the color and light. The air was dry, and a suffocating heat wafted between the buildings and over the streets. A reminder that beyond the ashen
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Memories are like puzzle pieces – tiny snippets of a bigger picture, meaningless in isolation. One piece might show half of a face; one memory might contain a happy moment. You can’t tell what a
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“Why am I not a wizard?”
“Why would you want to be a wizard?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Wingardium Leviosa my problems away forever? That would be so much easier than facing them alone with my
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I remember visiting Heidi in San Francisco, when I was younger. She was so charismatic in those days, her icy blue eyes glinting mischievously as she lay sprawled out beneath the window, looking like
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I went to bed early last night, which is something I only do when I could really use some extra sleep. It was a good plan and an honest attempt to take better care of my body. But at 12:45 a.m., I
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Dear —,
Here’s my two cents about thieving: if you’re going to steal someone’s heart, you should let them have yours; it’s hard to live without a heart, you know. If they can’t have yours, then
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The radio blares on, playing the latest pop song, a radio game, or a discussion of the day’s traffic. You look over to the red analog letters: 4:30 AM. The sun has yet to wake up, it’s still sleeping
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A frigid breeze whipped across my face. I, standing on the shore, stared out across a glacial lake of Homer, Alaska. As our tour guide informed us, that glacial lake sits in the mountains full of
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Today I had orange eggs for breakfast.
I thought it was strange so I looked it up and found that an especially happy chicken lays eggs with orange yolks. It saddened me to think of the countless
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How do you politely throw up in the back of a taxicab? I can feel my stomach tightening, the bitter, acidic taste rising in the back of my throat. I look down at the cardboard bowl provided by the
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I’m going through my collection of CD’s—A Pentatonix Christmas, Mariachi Cobre, Tim McGraw—when a small paper book bound by two orange ribbons with a water-color picture of pink and coral flowers
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My nana’s house feels like fine china and lace.
The walls are white, the furniture floral, every decoration a refined antique. The house is delicate and apart from everything I know—like I’ve
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